Shared
by JessicaJones
Summary: "There's no need to play coy," Morrigan says. "Naomi isn't here to see your performance." A Dark Ritual vignette.


_A/N: This was originally part of "Wakeful For Her Sake," but then the story changed and it didn't fit anymore. It's still in that universe but stands on its own._

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><p>This is Naomi's room. Morrigan cannot use her own room, of course, it is downstairs and Zevran and Leliana are both asleep in it; only the Warden warranted a private suite in Eamon's castle. Still Morrigan knows that she does not belong here. This is Naomi's bed, and these are her things.<p>

Alistair lies beneath her, looking up with feigned disinterest as she straddles him between her legs. A smile pulls at the corner of her lips.

"There's no need to play coy," she says. "Naomi isn't here to see your performance." She takes his hands and places them on her hips. "And I have seen you the way you look at me."

Alistair grunts. "Not on purpose," he replies, and his brow furrows. "You do put yourself on display."

"Ah, so 'tis my fault?" Morrigan laughs. "Alistair, I cannot imagine why you are still pretending to be so innocent." She runs her hands over his chest, smiling when his breath catches. "You seem to forget that I've shared a campsite with you for the better part of a year. I've _heard_ you, with her."

He turns his head sharply, the line of his neck going taut. "This is different."

Morrigan sits back, resting on his legs. "I can pretend, if you like," she suggests. She reaches up and pulls the pins out of her hair, noting the way his eyes roam over her as she flexes. With a toss of her head her hair falls loose over her shoulders, and she smiles sweetly. "Look at me, I'm Naomi Amell, I'm a darling little mage who loves a templar, isn't it perfectly adorable?"

At this Alistair sits up. "That's what this is really about, isn't it?" He's close enough she can feel the heat of his breath on her skin. "All this time you've been travelling with us, and getting close to her, making her trust you... you _knew_ it would end this way." He pulls her closer and his eyes scan her face. "You've always wanted what she has."

Morrigan scowls. "You've _no_ idea how I feel," she insists, and on the last word her voice cracks. "I hope to save her life, Alistair. And 'tis what she wants as well." He is staring at her with hard eyes, and Morrigan lifts her chin. "Do not forget she gave you to me."

Something flickers in his eyes, and Alistair bites back whatever retort he had planned. Then he shifts, his hands tightening on her hips, and suddenly she is on her back, and he is above her, silhouetted against the ceiling.

"I don't want you," he says.

Morrigan wets her lips. "Of course not."

And then he is kissing her, in that way that she has seen him kiss Naomi, first on her lips and then at the corner of her jaw, drawing breath against her skin. She knows that he is pretending. Morrigan would never admit it but there is a certain charge in being _her, _in being the girl that everyone loves. She allows herself to be weak.

He presses his body against hers, and she inclines her head and spreads her legs. For a brief moment Morrigan is painfully aware that this is the end of the only friendship she has ever known, and then with a swift thrust he enters her.

Morrigan gasps and her mind goes white. She's been with men before, but it's been so long she can't remember their faces and the sensation overwhelms her. He pushes her hair back and kisses her neck, too tenderly. He's treating her the only way he knows how, she suspects, and it's not the way she's accustomed to being treated. It's nicer than she would have thought. Morrigan lifts her hips and closes her eyes.

He responds, and there's a certain desperation when he moves again, whether it's from impatience or fear or if that's just the way he is she can't say, but she feels her body open to him. Morrigan resists the urge to tell him to slow down, both because that is a ridiculous thing for her to want, but also because she thinks the sound of her voice would break the spell. She threads her hands under his arms. She never would have chosen him if there had been another option, but they are together now, and she finds herself clinging to him even though he's clinging to someone else.

And then she feels herself falling, and her hands grasp his back as her body tightens and then releases. She sees a whole other life between them. It isn't her life, but she thinks he sees it too because he shudders and buries his face in her hair.

"_Morrigan_." The name rattles out of him like a death knell.

It takes her a moment to realize it's _her_ name, and it seems to take him by surprise as well. He pulls away and looks down at her. She looks back up at him, turning sullen because she does not know what exactly she's supposed to say.

"Are we done here?" he asks eventually.

She clears her throat. "I believe that should do it, yes."

He pushes himself up, and then he is on his feet and pulling on his clothes. "Then I'm going," he says.

"Nobody asked you to stay," she snaps back, too quickly, and Morrigan doesn't think he hears how defensive her voice has become.


End file.
